


Once in a Blue Moon

by Yotsubadancesintherain5



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, Gen, One Shot, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:00:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24665752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yotsubadancesintherain5/pseuds/Yotsubadancesintherain5
Summary: Homura goes up to the hospital roof three times.
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	Once in a Blue Moon

It was a conclusion that Homura had in her head when she woke up every morning. Her thoughts played a tune of her worthlessness, the futility of her continued existence. She was friendless, a shy nature coupled with practically living at the hospital. In the crevice of her mind she stored the date she had last seen her parents.

The number of days since she had last seen them became numerous. Anticipation turned to dull resignation.

Every morning Homura looked at herself in the mirror and saw that dull resignation in her eyes. Her glasses could not mask that look.

On a specific day Homura put on her shoes and walked down the hallway to the rooftop. She counted every step as she climbed up the stairs, to keep her mind off the purpose of the rooftop.

She pushed open the rooftop door and made a little shriek when she realized there was another girl right beside the door.

The girl jumped back, her teary eyes wide and her mouth agape. She swiped at the tears that fell down her cheeks.

“Sorry, sorry,” Homura said and she hated the flatness of her voice.

“It’s okay.” The girl’s voice was hoarse. “What are you doing up here?”

“I wanted some fresh air,” Homura lied.

She remembered a polite response and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I…” the girl rubbed her eyes. “My friend had broken his wrist, and he got out of surgery a few weeks ago. When he got out of the hospital I was going to tell him I loved him. But someone already…”

She placed her hands against her face. Her shoulders shook, and Homura could hear restrained sobbing.

Homura reached out her hand and then withdrew it; a question fought its way out of her mouth.

“Why are you up here?”

The girl let her hands fall from her face. There was a small, fragile smile on her face, but it didn’t wobble. Homura could see a flicker of happiness in her eyes.

“When his could fully use his hand we brought him up here,” the girl said. “He played violin. And it was so beautiful.”

She rubbed her cheeks. “I guess I wanted to remember that before I let go of him for good. Sorry for talking so much.”

Homura’s heart pinched. She briefly wondered if her illness had robbed her of this adolescent joy and pain.

But she did not speak of this and instead said, “Talk as long as you want.”

The girl said her name first, Sayaka, and told the entire story. Homura was not quite versed in social interactions with a peer but found to her relief that she laughed, gasped and hummed at all the right parts.

Sayaka told of her school life and of her best friend, Madoka, noticeable for the red ribbons she wore daily in her hair. It seemed that her best friend also helped her through that heartache. Homura offered up what little memories she had of school and of her childhood.

By the end of their talk the sun had nearly set.

So Sayaka said, “I used to visit him every week. I’ll visit you instead, now.”

Homura could only nod. She couldn’t remember the last time she got a promise like that, and it left a light feeling in her chest.

Sayaka walked with Homura back to her room and then left. When Homura looked in the mirror before bed the look in her eyes had not changed at all.

The light feeling was replaced by bitterness. A sardonic thought taunted her by asking if she thought one good day would have been enough for her.

-

A few days had passed and Homura could feel them meld together. She wondered if the encounter ever happened at all and the realization that they had not decided where to meet or the time.

So when the sun was high in the sky and the sky was a beautiful cornflower blue she walked up to the roof again. She opened the door and saw a girl resting against the railing.

Homura didn’t shriek this time. She said a greeting and the girl’s shoulders shot up.

“You scared the crap out of me,” the girl said as she turned around. “I came up here to clear my head!”

“I’m sorry,” Homura said. Her voice had a little weight.

“Well, don’t do it again.” The words seemed to have an artificial bite to them.

Homura couldn’t think of anything to say so she said her name, “I’m Homura.”

“Kyoko.”

Homura’s tongue pressed against the roof of her mouth. Her eyebrows furrowed. She finally thought of something to say.

“Are you visiting someone?”

Kyoko looked up at the sky. Her hands gripped the railing.

“Yeah. My friend, Mami. She was in a car accident a while ago.”

Homura saw Kyoko’s eyes look sorrowful as she continued to speak.

“I met her when my family fell on some hard times. We’re okay now. But every time I looked at her I had this feeling, like I was right back in that time when my family was struggling to eat.”

Her fingers drummed on the railing.

“I wasn’t a very good friend,” Kyoko said. “Last time we talked I said I never wanted to see her again. It was before she got into that accident.”

Homura felt a lurch in her heart and a cold feeling in her stomach.

“Every time I can visit her she’s asleep,” Kyoko said. “So maybe I can get here at the right time and apologize. Third time’s the charm, right?”

Homura pushed her glasses up her nose. She couldn’t think of what to say.

“Bit of a silent thinker, huh?” Kyoko asked.

Homura shrugged.

“Eh, you’re a good listener. Sorry for spilling my guts.”

Kyoko looked up at the sky again, her mouth turned upward into a grin.

“Back then I used to think I could run away. You know, so my family didn’t have to deal with my appetite.”

Despite her tone there was a smidge of seriousness in her voice.

“But then your family would’ve seen an empty seat at the dinner table,” Homura said.

She saw Kyoko’s eyes widen for a second. Then Kyoko’s mouth settled into a rueful smile.

“Yeah. You’re right.”

Homura looked over the city with her. Homura wondered when it was the last time she ate a home cooked meal.

A clap on her back made her flinch. Kyoko drew her hand away with a sheepish look on her face. Something in Homura’s mind guessed that look was rare.

“I’ll see you around.”

Kyoko went to the rooftop door and left. Homura followed a few seconds later. She couldn’t trust herself to be alone on the roof.

When she made it back to her room she could feel a familiar loneliness gnaw at her chest.

She avoided the mirror, took off her shoes, climbed into bed and had a dreamless sleep,

-

The week came and went. A hollow resignation squirmed its way into Homura’s lungs and stomach. Her mouth was dry and she watched the day turn to twilight.

Homura wrote a note and she flinched at the pain in her chest as she climbed out of the bed. She walked to the bathroom and stared into the mirror. Her eyes were the same. She pulled her braid apart and let her hair fall undone.

She left her shoes under the hospital bed. When she walked out in the hallway she could not concretely hear anything around her. The coldness of the floor seeped up into her entire body. Her nostrils were burning with the persistent, numerous sterile medical scents.

The stairs seemed unending. The door to the roof barely opened against her limp hands.

It seemed that her body and brain reconnected when she saw a girl gripping the railing. Her shoes were neatly placed next to the fence. Her back was to Homura, one of her legs beginning to lift over the railing.

The door shut noisily and the girl quickly put her leg down. She turned around, her hands drawn up to her chest.

Her hair was unrestrained, yellow curls that fell in a tangle at her shoulders. Her right cheek was covered by a square bandage. There was a cut above her left eyebrow, bruised yellow and stiff. There was yellowed bruising underneath her left eye.

Homura saw the look in the girl’s eyes, the same as what Homura saw when she looked in the mirror.

“What’s your name?” Homura asked, her heart beating painfully.

There was a faint flicker of surprise across the girl’s face before she spoke.

“Mami,” she said. Homura recognized the flat cadence of her voice, as it could have been Homura’s own some days.

And then, with a jolt, Homura remembered when she had heard that name.

“Why,” and the question trailed off because there was too hurt to continue.

“Car accident. My parents… my parents…”

Mami’s face scrunched up and she drew a hand against her eyes.

“Why did I live?” she asked. “What am I going to do without my mom and dad?”

Homura stepped back. Her vision blurred. She found that she could not speak at all, and her thoughts were a whirlwind.

Her knees were weak. Mami cried out when Homura fell to her knees. Her hands shook, as Mami’s words repeated over and over in her head, yearning for her living parents that had not seen her in so long that it seemed her entire body ached for their presence.

All at once a paroxysm of weeping ripped through Homura’s lungs. Her throat burned, a hoarse cry crawled its way out of her throat and she curled in on herself. The palms of her hands pushed against her eyes as if that could stop the tears.

Homura felt a hand touch her back, placed at the top of her spine and soft, comforting warmth that followed that touch. She felt Mami wrap her arms around Homura’s shoulders. Mami’s hands rested on her back and she soothingly rubbed Homura’s back.

The gesture spurred more tears, as she could not remember the last time she had been held.

The moment lasted for a few more minutes. The rooftop door opened.

Mami lifted herself up, and Homura turned. She saw Sayaka first, and behind her a girl with red ribbons decorating her hair. There was visible relief on both of their faces.

-

In the whirlwind that followed after Homura felt strangely grounded.

She learned that Sayaka had come to visit, her best friend Madoka in tow. They had found the note and hurried to the rooftop in a panic. In the questioning afterwards Mami told of her true intentions on the roof.

A therapist was brought in for the both of them. It was an environment with no judgment, something that Homura desperately needed.

Sayaka and Madoka visited them weekly. Kyoko reconciled with Mami and visited whenever she could.

In the times in-between Homura could speak with Mami, someone else who knew this pain and the tribulations that followed.

It was not always easy. Some days the self-deprecation and self-hatred would rear their heads and it was overwhelming. The difference was that Homura had the tools to fight them off as best she could, armed with the knowledge that there were people that cared about her.

And when those feelings were silent she could watch Sayaka and Madoka do their schoolwork, guessing the answers alongside them and getting better at the subjects that had long since rusted in her mind.

She could laugh at Kyoko’s numerous stories and listen to Mami’s gentle disapproval of the more outrageous ones. She could look over cook books with Mami and point out the recipes she liked the most.

Some of those times were the best days that had had in a long time; Homura decided that the best days when she could look in the mirror and see the happy light in her eyes.

**Author's Note:**

> I listened to "My R," by Kurage-P and kept thinking of Homura in the very first timeline. I did change a few things around - This is, as the tags say, an alternate universe without canon powers, I didn't write Sayaka and Kyoko as suicidal and I wrote a happy ending as opposed to the ending of the song. It's ambiguous as to whether someone came for the girl in the song. However, a later [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fF_yQsBRfJ8) heavily implies that someone came for her.


End file.
